As the excellent son of Dragon Zerola, the retired Hero of the continent, there’s one thing I should’ve realized from childhood.

Blame it on my smooth-sailing life—I only woke up to this when trouble finally hit.

My perverted old man, a womanizer adored by girls, saddled me with over a hundred stepmoms. Including the "reserves," the count’s probably higher…

But let’s be real…

How could he not have a few enemies?

Maybe they were furious after he teased them endlessly. Or heartbroken when he stole someone they loved. Or just hated him for reasons unknown…

When they realized they couldn’t get revenge on my dad, that rage naturally landed on his son—me.

Talk about sitting at home while trouble rains from the sky. That’s my frustrating reality now.

Discipline Elder Beren of the Elvenfolk looked young, nothing like those old fogeys. But her childhood trauma from my dad made her pick on me relentlessly.

Threatening me with weird "questions" in class was bad enough. Now, after school hours, she dragged me into the empty staff room under her "teacher" authority.

Miss Beren’s boldness even outdid Selica’s! She locked the staff room door, drew all the curtains, and lit a candle. The place turned into an "inquisition chamber" for heretics.

"Hah… Zerola. I’ve waited over a decade to finally catch your son."

Dim light, stuffy air, flickering candle flames—her elfin smile radiated triumph.

She seemed so earnest, I couldn’t ruin the "harmony." Sighing, I covered my forehead and sat obediently while Miss Beren struck a victorious JOJO pose.

"Hahaha! Your only failure? Having a son!"

"Your next line’s definitely: ‘Give me back my son!’"

"But I refuse! I, Beren Castor, love telling arrogant fools: no!"

Miss Elf! Miss Elf! Wake up! Time for your meds!

Ignoring how I’m just here out of student-teacher respect… if something *did* happen, who’d really lose out?

Dad and my stepmoms trained me well. Plus, my half-Goddess physique from Mom means no one on this continent can "take advantage" of me.

You, Elder Miss, locking doors and sealing windows…

You’ve got guts.

…

Proud of my self-control, I zoned out—until Miss Beren slammed her palm on the desk.

*Slammed!*

Candlelight scattered, reflecting the elf’s hostile glare.

"Hmph. No surprise you’re that man’s son. Looks-wise, you’re passable. But all you’ve got left is a silver tongue, just like him!"

She tossed a familiar smutty book onto the table.

*The Cross-Dressing Boy X The Transvestite Master*

I’d destroyed most copies of this black history, yet this elf still had stock!

Seriously, the dog-eared pages—how many times did you read it, Miss Beren?

"Stop spacing out! You’re the protagonist here! Spit it out—what hold do you have on Fuu to force him into a dress?!"

Forced?

"Fuu volunteered!"

I rocked my chair.

"D-don’t dodge! You’re that man’s son—you must’ve used dirty tricks! Not just Fuu, but Flan too… After corrupting the brother, you targeted the sister! Disgusting human!"

When I kept rocking to protest, her high heel *cracked* onto my thigh.

"Stop fidgeting! Didn’t they teach you manners?!"

She leaned closer, scowling to pick a fight—but didn’t notice our faces almost touching.

The more I leaned back, the bolder (or brainless) she got, pressing nearer.

Past the sharp pain, I saw a "sacred sanctuary" of birdsong and blossoms before me.

"After poisoning sweet Flan, you’ll go after their mother—Elder Selica! Ahh… Selica lost her husband young. No matter how chaste she tries to be, she can’t resist a perverted monster like you!"

Beren’s rant spiraled into delusion. I didn’t bother correcting her…

"You’d probably cross-dress to sneak up on Selica, then ambush her during baths… Ahhh! S-shameless! Corrupting morals…"

After all, this elf had no clue she was unconsciously giving me fan service.

Her high heels framed smooth, slender legs wrapped in silky black stockings. Her short skirt couldn’t handle her "rude" moves, hinting at forbidden zones. Through her blouse’s folds, dark lace trim peeked out…

For a Discipline Elder, your outfit’s awfully corrupting, Miss Beren.

Just as I decided to play dumb and enjoy the view, my shaky breathing caught her attention.

She blinked at my face, then down at her pose.

Next second, her cheeks flushed crimson. She exploded exactly as I’d expected.

"P-p-pervert! Pervert!! You s-s-saw… ahhh!"

Hey! Dumb elf! You lunged first! I saw it by force majeure!

And stop shaking! This chair’s not a wall!

"I’ll kill you! Kill you! Aaah… waaah!"

Off-balance, the elf toppled onto me, crashing to the floor.

I wanted to ask how such clumsy hands maintain discipline—but no time.

Her soft body pinned me down. Her chest pressed against me, sending delicious warmth through me. Her cheek grazed mine, and the damp trace on my lips said it all.

K-kissed?!

Are you kidding? I’m the victim here!

"Ah! S-sorry… hey?!"

"Mmm…"

Beren, this elf, was shyer than I’d guessed when flustered.

"D-die!!"

She punched my chest hard, then bolted up like a startled rabbit, sobbing toward the door.

"Die, pervert! Die die… eh? It won’t open?!"

*Bang bang bang!*

She hammered the door. Panic really tanked her IQ.

"Why?! A-ah! S-sneaky human! You planned this all along?!"

"You locked it yourself!!"

I sighed, flicking a mana bolt to blast the lock off. Cold-hearted elf—didn’t even say thanks.

After one last glare, she vanished outside.

Beren’s clearly targeting me. This won’t do…

I rubbed my thigh where her stiletto had dug in, struggling to stand.

"Hiss… ow ow ow. Bleeding. Tch. Wearing pointy heels like Selica? But Selica never stomps people like you…"